16 Pie-rates

Lily

Bel of the Ball: Is it super obvious that I’m throwing this game?

Flower Power: Hopefully he thinks you’re just exceptionally out of it today

Bel of the Ball: So that’s a yes

Flower Power: You’ve been scanning for asteroids for, like, five minutes. To be fair, I’ve been doing fuck all by solar farm thing and hoping he’s feeling like living up to his name

Bel of the Ball: Fair

Bel of the Ball: My mom says hi

Flower Power: Hi Mom! (What’s your mom’s name?)

Bel of the Ball: So, about that…

Flower Power: Please tell me I haven’t told your mom to go fuck herself during a game

Bel of the Ball: HA! No, she’s a little old school, she doesn’t game

Flower Power: You’re stalling big guy. It’s kinda weird, I learned about some of the alleged Big Bad Demons when I was alive, but we never talked about lady demons much, except Lilith

Bel of the Ball: Bingo

* * *

He answered on the second ring.

“Bullshit,” she said.

Bel chuckled and she heard his chair creak, as if he’d shifted around. Nervous?

“Nope, that’s my mom. The Lilith. She’s pretty cool. She’s not here. She just texted to ask if I was busy and said to tell everyone hello.”

Lily stared down at her phone as if she could see him through it. He sounded nonchalant, but she’d gotten to know him well enough over the last few weeks to catch the hint of twitchiness. Like when he’d told her he was a general. She smiled softly at the phone.

Sweet man. Demon. De-man.

“Well, tell her I say hi back, and that her son is doing a shit job of being bait.”

“It’s the damnedest thing,” Bel mused. “He’s always telling me how punchable I am. Maybe he’s onto us.”

“Methinks Gregorith is projecting slightly. I mean, I’ve met you and haven’t found you punchable in the least. I know it when I see it, because at least one comes through the desk every d— What the fuck? ” Lily scowled at the Invaders screen where Stabby had just killed her character.

On the other end of the phone, Bel hooted. “Finally! Brace yourself, princess, I’m about to give the dramatic performance of my life and earn us some pie.”

“Wait, hold on. It won’t work if I’m the one who got killed. He won’t believe that you’d be upset enough about that to warrant a forgive-me pie.”

“Oh?”

Her cheeks heated, so she moved on. “Princess?” she asked. He hadn’t said it with mockery, but with genuine affection, which was odd, considering that nothing about her honestly said “princess.”

“Oh.” Bel coughed and seemed to fumble for an answer. “Yeah, that just kind of slipped out. Like, a warrior princess, fierce and capable and braver than an army, you know? I, uh, I thought it the first time I saw you. And ever since. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I won’t say it again.”

“No, no, I actually like it,” Lily said slowly, rolling it over in her mind.

The first time he’d seen her she’d been beating a deeply despicable soul to a pulp. So, sure. Warrior princess in that moment, maybe. But “ever since”? Ever since, she’d just been…herself. He thought she was fierce and capable and brave?

Nothing about you feels temporary.

It had only been a few weeks, but it seemed like they’d known each other so much longer than that. They talked almost every day, either on the phone or in person. She’d almost invited him to come see her Paradise after he asked her more about it, his dark eyes bright with curiosity. She’d swallowed the offer down at the last moment for fear that he’d see something. See her. She’d convinced herself that it had been mostly because she wasn’t sure he’d fit through the door, but after Bel had practically bounced in place after she’d described the round door and the library, she suspected that he wouldn’t mind a bit.

One memorable day, she’d lured him up to the breakroom with the offer of taste-testing a bread recipe she’d tried. He’d hustled up in no time, still sweating and panting a bit from his time on the training fields, his gray muscle shirt—which would have looked right at home on a frat boy—hysterically at odds with his tough dark pants and boots. She’d laughed her ass off.

“Business on bottom, party on top, it’s a clothing mullet.” He’d grinned, poking around in the cupboards, trying to find the bread she’d hidden. He’d wiggled— wiggled —when she’d cut him a slice. He’d proceeded to inhale it, groaning in a way that sent a shiver down her spine and dampness between her legs, and then ask for more.

They’d stood in the kitchenette while Bel had eaten half the loaf, slice by slice, interspersing rave reviews with stories of his soldiers. He knew them, not all by name of course, but he knew so many more of them than she’d expected…and not just those in command. He’d explained that he rotated through each legion, and within those, each company, and whenever he could, the platoons. He talked to everyone, not just about their prowess or training, but their lives.

It had hit her like a lightning bolt that Bel was nothing if not passionate. About his soldiers, about his family, his friends, about his hobbies and interests, about life . He had spent his entire existence in the Afterlife, and he was a walking embodiment of living .

“What?” he’d asked.

She’d realized she’d been staring at him and shrugged one shoulder. “I like seeing people get excited about stuff. Happy is a good look on you.”

His pointed ears had gone a deeper shade of purple, but he’d smirked, flexing one thick arm. “It’s actually the muscle shirt, makes me look even sexier.”

“Oh, is that it?” She’d laughed, thankful they’d veered into lighter—if equally dangerous—territory for the rest of her break.

He’d really loved her bread. She’d taken to giving him some whenever she baked, and looked forward to—

“Lily,” Bel said, jolting her back to the present, where she’d been completely zoned out.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to like it.”

Princess.

She smiled. “I like it.”

“Well, then,” Bel said, “it’s official. Princess it is.”

His voice had a slightly rougher quality to it that made her swallow and think of doing taxes. Washing dishes. Anything other than…

Lily pressed her hands to her flaming face and sat back, not bothering to guide her ghost around the screen while she waited for someone to find her body.

Friends.

But oh, what would it be like to be the focus of that passion? To be the source of it? The kind of passion that had souls finding each other in every lifetime so they could love each other in new ways every time. The kind of passion that had an old man waiting patiently in the lobby of the Afterlife for his love, so that, come what may, they would face it together?

She could see that written all over Bel. Despite the harsh-looking exterior, the warrior body and soul, he had a tremendous capacity and ability to love. That giant heart drew her in like a bee to honey.

It scared the shit out of her that she could mess it all up. That she could lose the incredible friendship she had now in the hope of having what she’d never been able to have before.

The screen flashed when someone found her character’s body and called for a murder trial.

The moment the trial opened, Bel’s voice boomed through both the computer and their phone call. “Which one of you UTTER BASTARDS murdered my girl ?”

Lily clamped a hand over her mouth to smother the laughter that threatened to give them away. She fumbled for her phone and hung up, eyes watering with mirth. He sounded so completely indignant, and if she didn’t know any better, legitimately pissed. But she did know better, so she laughed herself sick while the other players scrambled to defend themselves. Bel did an admirable job of interrogating a player called Ha-deez-nuts before turning his attention to their target.

“Stabby,” Bel growled with enough menace to make her breath catch mid-laugh. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What do you have to say for yourself, FruitBat?” Gregorith countered, smooth malice dripping from every syllable. “You’ve been doing such a great job going after everyone else, but what about you? Suspicious that it took you that long to scan for asteroids.”

“I kept doing it too fast,” Bel said.

“Story of your life,” Gregorith said with a smile she could hear.

Lily nibbled on her lip, humming. Fast didn’t seem like Bel’s style. Rough, maybe. Hard. He’d probably fuck like he seemed to do everything else: with passion and ferocity and a surprising amount of creativity—

Nope.

She grabbed her mug and headed for the kitchen. Tea. Tea was the solution.

Princess…

Definitely more tea.

By the time she returned to her chair, Max had taken up residence on the cushion, forcing her to perch delicately on the edge. Gregorith led the charge against a player called They, and the vote for their banishment was almost unanimous.

Her phone buzzed.

Bel of the Ball: One of my finest performances if I may say so myself.

Flower Power: I was laughing so hard I had to hang up! Think it was pie worthy?

Bel of the Ball: I just texted him “my couches are off limits, with love, fuck you” to seal the deal. Now we wait.

Flower Power: Couches?

Bel of the Ball: My office has great couches, it’s a good hangout spot for people when I’m not busy. So I banned him.

Flower Power: The horror!

Bel of the Ball: Fear me, and my desire for us to get this pie.